This poem
was written in the early days of our marriage. My husband worked out of town. In
the winter, we saw each other every other weekend for eighteen hours. He came
home to wash his clothes, sleep, and pack again. Oh, and see me!

We lived in
Casper. James worked in Green River and Laramie. He went to class in Sundance on
the other weekend as a part of his apprenticeship program. If he had time, he’d
pop in and say “hi” before heading back to the jobsite but since that usually
was around midnight, it didn’t happen very often.

I lived day
to day and, at times, minute to minute, counting the seconds until I saw him
again. To say good-bye.

Roads in
Wyoming are treacherous, especially in the winter. He’d call and tell me he was
leaving. I’d beg him not to come home then quietly rejoice when he’d ignore me,
ending the call with “I love you.” If I was quick enough, I’d squeeze in “I
love you more.” Dragging himself through the door, exhausted from the work week
and the drive, he’d take me in his arms and whisper, “I love you mostest of
all, Puddins.”

With the
Lord’s help, we survived this period of our marriage, only to face other trials
and tribulations. Those we triumphed as well. A beautiful boy named Sean was born
in Jackson after an almighty struggle. Numerous surgeries have been battled and
conquered. Even financial trouble couldn't destroy this family.

You see, I
didn’t marry simply a man. I married my best friend and partner in life. When
the Lord joined us, he became my other half. Twenty-four years ago, in this
poem, you see agony. A woman’s heart ripped in half. After all, the other piece of it had just walked out the door. Unwillingly.

For those
who are curious. I would answer. “And I love you, Honey Bunny, to infinity and
beyond.” And our love continues to grow each day.